


Kiss Me Goodnight

by incurableromancer



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, joe needs a nap and some kisses, so that's what he gets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:42:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27430696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incurableromancer/pseuds/incurableromancer
Summary: The safe house has one comfy sofa. When he finally gets it all to himself, Joe is not going to waste the opportunity by falling asleep on it (he is, though).
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 41
Kudos: 344





	Kiss Me Goodnight

Joe is sleepy.

He’s sprawled on his back, taking advantage of having the entire sofa all to himself. It’s a rare occurrence, with the five of them all holed up in the same safe house. Especially this particular safe house, with this particular sofa, where the once-plush, decades old thing has become so worn and malleable with age and wear that sitting on it feels like curling up on a cloud.

In order to protect his position, he’s spread himself over as much area as he can manage to cover, anticipating that the others will come trickling into the cosy sitting room as the afternoon slips into evening. They will circle like sharks, ready to snap up the spot the second Joe lets his guard down.

He's got a leg slung over the edge, the other stuck up over the arm rest. One hand resting on his tummy, and one behind his head. He’s in his cosiest clothes. A big, worn out t-shirt, sweatpants, and thick socks.

The room is warm, fireplace stoked and blazing in a way that is nothing short of lovely considering the damp bluster of the rain pouring down outside. He is not going to fall asleep, but his skin feels exposed and chilly the way it does when he really, really wants to. He thinks that the blanket hanging off of the recliner looks particularly appealing. 

That’s the problem, though. While the blanket looks appealing, the bed waiting for him upstairs is infinitely more so. But both are far away, and Joe doesn’t want to break the pleasant, fuzzy lull of sleepiness by moving. Especially not when he has no idea when an opportunity like this to stretch out on the sacred sofa will present itself again.

It’s too early to go to bed, anyway. Nicky’s warmth wouldn’t be up there yet, not until long after Joe fell asleep, if he gave in now. So he refocuses on the television, on some sitcom or other that he isn’t really following, and he tries to keep his eyes open.

Maybe he’s not having quite as much success as he thinks he is, because one second he thinks he’s blinking, just once or twice, and the next he’s looking at what he’s pretty sure is a different sitcom, and suddenly Nile is curled up in the recliner with a book. Not a bad spot, that recliner. A second to the sofa, but better than the floor. After growing up with a brother, Nile knows how to settle when it’s the smartest move. She looks up from her book to offer Joe a nod, and he smiles back.

He stifles a yawn as she goes back to her book, and tries to refocus on the television. Tucks his hand up into his shirt against the bare skin of his stomach in an attempt to leech some of his own warmth. The contact holds no candle to Nicky’s embrace, nor to the blanket that Nile is letting go to perfect waste, still hanging off the back of the recliner. But it’s fine, because Joe isn’t going to fall sleep, anyway. He doesn’t need to be snuggled up.

The next time he blinks, when he opens his eyes, Andy is squished onto the recliner beside Nile. She catches his eye, seems about as interested in the sitcom as Joe is. She raises a pointed eyebrow at him, and he raises one back, shifting to sprawl his legs wider as to secure his claim over more of the surface area of the sofa. It’s his domain, tonight, and his alone. Andy and her eyebrows and her authority as boss be damned.

The next time he blinks, there’s definitely a little bit of drool on his cheek, and he wipes it away as subtly as he can. Nile is still caught up in her book, and Andy doesn’t look away from the television this time. But the back of Booker’s head is right in front of him, as he’s apparently sat himself down on the floor in front of the sofa at some point. He actually likes sitcoms, Joe recalls. And never complains, no matter where he gets stuck sitting. Doesn’t bother turning his head to acknowledge Joe in any way, content no matter how the ongoing battle for seating positions unfolds.

Joe smiles a little, and thinks that there’s a reason Booker is usually his favorite.

The next time he wakes up, he can’t pretend he’d just been blinking. His head is turned completely away from the television, for one thing, face snuggled into the back of the sofa the same way it would be into Nicky’s neck, if they were in bed. Speak of the devil, the other reason he can’t pretend he’d only been blinking is due to the sudden sensation of somebody tickling the sole of his foot, the one hanging off of the end of the sofa. For the first second or two, while he’s still half asleep, all that his body decides to do is twitch a little. His toes curl, a soft ‘ _mm’_ to cover up the giggle bubbling up and out of his throat before he’s registered what’s even happening.

And then, as he actually wakes, just a second later as the ticklish touch veers into the area of _too much_ for Joe’s sensitive, ticklish skin, he decides then and there that he will never stop denying the high pitched _squealing_ sound that leaves his mouth as he wrenches his foot out of Nicky’s grasp.

He thinks he accidentally knees the back of Booker’s head in his squabble, and Nile and Andy are watching now, amused, as Nicky takes the opportunity to sit himself down on the end of the sofa Joe has just inadvertently freed up.

Joe grumbles, rubbing at his tired eyes with his fists, ignoring the laughter and the commentary over Joe’s failure to defend his territory. Nile accuses Nicky of playing dirty, which Joe would appreciate, were he more awake, and Andy suggests that Nicky keep going until Joe falls off the sofa entirely so that she can get some space too. Booker is silent, no doubt still watching his program, which. Joe should apologize to him, probably, for that knee. But his ears tell him that Nicky is doing that already. So he sighs, and rubs his eyes harder as a sudden monstrous yawn makes them water.

Maybe if he were less sleepy he’d fight a little harder for the sofa. As is, all he does is pull his knees to his chest to hopefully spare his feet lest Nicky take Andy’s suggestion and decide the newly freed up space isn’t enough for him.

And, if it’s anyone, at least he’s surrendering to somebody he knows appreciates a comfy spot to curl up just as much as Joe does. Somebody who will share with him, if he asks nicely enough.

He moves his fists away from his eyes, peering squinted, sleepy, accusatory eyes at Nicky’s face. Nicky, who is smiling at him all affectionate and besotted as though he’s just watched Joe hang the stars and moon in the sky, rather than just rudely awoken him and ruined his evening plans of winning the struggle for the sofa.

Wonderful, warm, easy Nicky, who starts murmuring apologies as soon as he sees the mildly betrayed look in Joe’s eyes, how sweet and sleep-rumpled he is despite the early hour. Who shifts and prods at Joe until he’s stretched out across the sofa again, tucked close to Nicky’s chest this time, their tangled legs taking up the space at the other end of the sofa once more, much to Andy’s dismay.

Nicky wraps Joe up in his warm arms, stroking a hand over his curls as Joe melts into him. Nicky’s big palm splays over the back of his shoulders, the contact so nice and warm through the soft, thin material of his shirt that Joe shudders a little, presses the chilly tip of his nose to Nicky’s shoulder.

Nicky kisses his head, whispers to him that he should let Nicky take him to bed.

And Joe thinks, not bothering to look back over his shoulder as Nile and Andy lunge for the space they’ve just freed up, that Nicky’s cuddles will always win out over a comfy sofa.

"I'm impressed that you managed to hold onto that sofa for the whole afternoon."

Nicky doesn't break the silence until they're washed up and finally curled together under the blankets. The approach is the opposite as the one they take on the sofa, here. Curled as close and tight together as they can be, sprawled all over each other instead of over all the empty space of the mattress. 

Joe hums softly, smile overtaking his face as Nicky begins pressing kisses to the side of his neck. 

"I am too. Or, I was, until you so rudely had to go and _tickle_ me- oh, _no Nicky!"_

He interrupts himself with a gentle cry, soft laughter spilling from his lips and from Nicky's too as he squeezes at Joe's waist, the sides of his tummy where he's the most sensitive. Joe fruitlessly tries to get him back, even though he knows that Nicky isn't nearly so sensitive to this kind of touch. Doesn't make him enjoy using Joe's sensitive skin against him any less. 

"Sorry, sorry." 

Nicky stops as soon as Joe tells him to, even though they both know Joe likes it, in moderation, even if he says otherwise. He's great like that, Nicky. And greater still, the way he's already gone back to peppering fluttery kisses over Joe's skin. 

Joe whispers, giggles dying down, "I love you, Nicky. More than that sofa, even."

Nicky lifts his head, smiles his sweet smile. Playfully flutters his fingers under Joe's chin, just to make his eyes crinkle with his grin, before pressing a smiley kiss to his lips. 

"I love you more than that sofa too."

Joe lets himself melt into their next kiss, languid and sleepy and tender, before Nicky shifts to pull Joe down against his chest. Presses a kiss to the top of his head, nosing at his curls and taking long moments to rub Joe's back and listen to his breathing lengthen and even out before whispering, "goodnight, tesoro."

The next time Joe blinks himself awake, he's still wrapped up snuggly in Nicky's arms, still comfy and cosy underneath their duvet. The warm circle of Nicky's arms isn't for anyone but him, and so he smiles a little, before snuggling closer and closing his eyes, easily drifting back to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ dearpatroclus


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